


Eclipse Rain

by tender_sushijima



Category: TsukiPro the Animation, ツキウタ。 | Tsukiuta.
Genre: Action, Childhood Friends, Comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friendship, Gen, High School, Supernatural - Freeform, Twilight Parody, Twilight References, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:35:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_sushijima/pseuds/tender_sushijima
Summary: It's Twilight but with too much explanation and teenage boy angst.Aoi is the new kid in town looking for some peace and quiet, but he’d walked into a town infested with supernatural beings instead.
Relationships: Hazuki You & Nagatsuki Yoru, Hazuki You & Uzuki Arata, Hazuki You/Nagatsuki Yoru, Nagatsuki Yoru & Satsuki Aoi, Satsuki Aoi & Uzuki Arata, Satsuki Aoi/Uzuki Arata
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Strawberries and Blood Stains

**Author's Note:**

> When you run away from a city to a town to live a lighter life, but the darkness hits.
> 
> Alternatively, Vegetarian Vampires and Worried Wolves—band name, called it.
> 
> Basically just my take on Twilight, minus the romance but ten times the bromance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eighteen-year-old Satsuki Aoi intends to live a slower paced life when he moved from the sunny bustling city to a rainy sleeping town, and maybe make a nice new friend or two. What he gets for friends are anything but—a vampire classmate with whom he has a blood pact and said vampire’s flashy roommate who’s more than just a handsome face.
> 
> Maybe the flashy roommate's childhood friend will make a better nice friend for Aoi, but even he might not be as nice as he seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by Troye Sivan’s “Strawberries and Cigarettes”, which would’ve been perfect except Arata doesn’t smoke. No smoking allowed in this household, I have bad lungs and even worse reactions to strong smells. Technically, that also means I can’t stand the scent of strawberries, so in conclusion, I’m allergic to Arata.

* * *

  
You’d think that it’s in P.E. class when your classmate indirectly tells you that you smell by slipping you a bottle of cologne, and that a history class is the last place you’d expect the call-out, but Uzuki Arata is no ordinary classmate. He’s not even an ordinary human to begin with, having been bestowed with a gift to read minds and cursed with a thirst for the blood of the mentally violent—namely me, Satsuki Aoi, his new classmate who ends up sitting next to him in every class and partnering with him for every project and activity, all because everybody is afraid of him.

In a paradoxical way, it’s fortunate that they’re afraid of Arata not because of his bloodthirsty nature, but because of his bad habit of bluntly revealing all their thoughts—who knows what would happen to him should his vampiresque attribute be known to the wrong people? Strangely, the concept of mind-reading hasn’t occurred to any of our classmates whenever he completes their sentences as they’re being said, opting to believe that he’s just invasively perceptive and observant. I know that’s not true, not because he’d explicitly told me, but because I’d looked right into his eyes and strictly thought of cute puppies wordlessly for a minute to see if he really could comprehend my mind. His only response being  _ why is it a repeat of a corgi sploot  _ proved that everyone’s beliefs about him were false and confirmed my suspicions about him not being human. Though the part where he thirsts for blood was an unpleasant surprise, it beats him being an alien who reads minds by sticking an electrical probe into people’s brains.

The history teacher is so immersed in her monotonous narrating that she doesn’t hear the occasional spritzing sound behind every sentence or notice the strange glances of the other students directed my way. I mumbled thanks to Arata, handing back the cologne, and he responded with a peace sign and a flat expression. I smiled flatly in return as I caught a whiff of strawberries, my curiosity long squashed by the unquestioning understanding I’d concocted when it comes to Arata.

It should be unsettling to always sit next to someone who knows I’m constantly daydreaming about visiting new dog cafes when I should be focusing in class, but frankly, it doesn’t bother me like it does the others. Apparently, Arata is unable to read my mind as clearly as he could our classmates’, claiming that I’m too noisy to have a comprehensible linear thought process. Hearing that from your broody seatmate would surely upset you, especially when it’s your first week in a new school and said seatmate had been nothing but cold towards you, and because it was amongst the first few things to have come out of his mouth after I’d mustered the courage to talk to him, I didn’t take it very well.

He’s right in that I have a noisy mind, because all my fear of and irritation at him accumulated and brewed for days on end, until it exploded one fateful rainy day. Things happened, a number of arguments and discussions were had, and several debunked vampire myths later, we’ve become sort of friends. I say ‘sort of’ because the more accurate description would be that we’d settled on a mutual pact where I am to provide blood to him every week and he hands me cologne whenever I start to overthink.

As we moved to a new page of the history textbook, Arata slipped me a note.

_ What’s on your mind? _

I gave him a questioning look, shaking my head and putting it aside. He took it back and wrote some more.

_ I don’t know what that means, Aoi. Your mind is so unusually loud today. Everyone’s quiet because this class is so boring, but you’re so loud. Entertain me~ _

I ignored it again, a little offended that he finds amusement in my thoughts, and I should’ve known better than to ignore him because he doesn’t react well to being ignored. He slapped the paper over my textbook the third time, loud enough to pull the teacher’s attention from her reading and turn the heads of our classmates. “Is there a problem, Mister Uzuki?” she asked.

“No, there’s just a fly. I'm sorry.”

When class resumed and the attention of the room shifted away, I shot him a disapproving glare and hastily wrote my response.

_ I’m thinking about ‘later’. Don’t agitate me further or I’ll overthink again. _

_ What, math class being the last class of the week? _

His teasing smile froze when I scowled, and he took the note back without further prodding. Math class being the last class of the week wasn’t the problem; in fact, it’s a blessing because I’d still retain most of what’s been taught so I can follow what Arata will be re-teaching me afterwards. No—what’s got my mind louder than usual in a boring history class is the thought of feeding, the time of the week when Arata breaks his no-blood diet and practically bites my head off my shoulders.

You’d think that having acted as Arata’s blood supply for weeks that I would’ve grown used to feeding, but I hated it more now than before I knew what it was. Not only does that term sound primitive and animalistic, but the act it refers to is quite possibly a glimpse into what being tortured in hell feels like. At first, a thousand pins and needles lit on fire are stabbed into the junction where the neck meets the shoulders, followed by paralysis that warps seconds into hours, and then at least an hour-long recovery from a quasi-drunken stupor. The first time was, for a lack of a better word, a nightmare, and it had me feeling ants on my body for the subsequent days because the sensation had remained violently vivid.

Contrary to popular vampire lore, feeding has no sexual tension of any sort because once teeth sink into flesh, you’ll forget all thoughts of love bites and only pray it won’t permanently damage your neck mobility. If the three-act sequence describing feeding wasn’t horrifying enough, it’s because I’ve yet to fully fathom how it truly feels to be fed on. Instead of having billions and trillions of bloodstreams in your body, imagine electricity lines, all of them turned up to the highest voltage, and picture them being yanked out of a small opening at the speed of light. It looks like ripping a deeply rooted plant off the ground and feels like ripping off a muscle patch multiplied by a hundred—in short, it’s neither beautiful nor romantic like the movies show and the stories tell.

Maybe I’m just exaggerating, but feeding is like a new genre of interactive horror that throws me into untapped levels of insanity, the kind that could drive me to a hysteria if it took longer than it does. The both of us hold equal leverages in the pact, but Arata clearly wields more power and influence over me, both physically and information-wise. He could’ve easily tricked me into believing that feeding occurs every day and even not told me the excruciating pain of being fed on, yet he chose to fast for six days and made sure I was comfortable and had eaten sufficiently prior to it. One could argue that he’s only doing those so I would be at my optimum condition and he would be satisfied with the quality of my blood, but I’d like to believe he thinks of me more than just what I can physically provide him.

Math class eventually ends and school is dismissed for the week, yet my thoughts are far from calm. When I learned of Arata’s mind reading ability, I found irony in the way that his bad habit of exposing people out loud would’ve created a vicious cycle with my bad habit of overthinking. By some flaw in the universe, we ended up together, thankfully without the vicious cycle, but unfortunately with the only thing connecting us being a literal blood bond.

“We need to stop by the store later,” Arata said as he waited for me to finish packing up. “I’ve only got one bottle left and I don’t want to buy the citrus flavor.”

“Must it always be strawberries?”

“If I’d like to smell a scent besides yours, I’d much prefer strawberries.”

I made a face but said nothing. If there’s one thing you never ask him about, it’s strawberries.

As we took our bags and headed out, I could feel our classmates’ watchful eyes on us, the blatant staring and the secret glances. I didn’t need to ask Arata to know what they’re thinking, because the same thing had been swirling amidst my many other thoughts—the new kid is hanging out with the freaky kid and only the freaky kid. Unless, they’re outside of class, then the new kid is hanging out with the freaky kid and the freaky kid’s less freakier, more popular roommate.

“Yo, rainy day lovebirds! Heading out on a date?” said roommate practically threw himself onto us as soon as we exited the class, an arm over our shoulders. “I really like the curry you made last time, Aoi. If you have the time, teach me how to cook it, will you?”

I smiled. Hazuki You is an ordinary human, but he’s an exceptional ordinary human. Like his name, You brings light and life wherever he goes. In a split second, I felt my heavy mind lift and my tense shoulders ease. “I’ll send you the recipe and you can try it yourself,” I answered.

“No fair. Arata gets food cooked for him every time you’re over and that’s after he kicks me out.”

“I don’t kick you out because you’re always outside at your own will,” Arata said.

“What do you guys do for so long anyway?” Pausing, You glanced at us back and forth with gradually widening eyes, his ponytail brushing my ear briefly and smacking Arata on the mouth. “Do you need any advice? You know you can always ask.”

“Even if we do, we wouldn’t want it from you,” Arata shrugged off his arm, lips pursed. “You’re so wet and smelly. Get off me.”

“Hey, girls like the musky, sweaty smell that I have after I’m done with P.E., you know? You should try and break out a sweat once in a while, and maybe the girls will like you too.”

“I’m not interested in girls.”

You’s mouth fell open and he started nudging me in the ribs so hard they felt like semi-offensive jabs. “You hear that, Aoi? I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You didn’t have to hide it from me, you know, Arata? I thought you’re weird for being so prudish about saucy topics, but I would’ve adjusted the subject if you’d told me.” He rested his chin on Arata’s shoulder, eyebrows waggling provocatively. “After all, we’re roommates, and roommates share everything about themselves to each other.”

I couldn’t help laughing at the sight—the normally isolated Arata being given utmost attention by the amiable You—then realized what a sight the three of us must seem to other people. The popular kid being friends with the freaky kid and the new kid should mean that he would try to get them to hang with his other friends too, but he’s mostly left us in our own safe spaces and hung with us exclusively. Arata’s spent two years living with You without any form of association with his buddies, and You’s respected his wishes to be left alone and not be unnecessarily meddled with. Putting aside the nonhuman aspect, they both share an admirable friendship of mutual respect, and I’m glad that You doesn’t let Arata’s ‘bad habit’ scare him as much.

It gives me hope seeing their interactions, because I still don’t know what Arata truly thinks of me. We do share genuine moments together, like him teaching me math in exchange for my cooking for us, since it’s virtually impossible to not grow comfortable and familiar after months of constant companionship. Yet, I couldn’t tell from his free-spirited and my-pace attitude if he sees me as his friend, an equal, or a walking blood bag, his lifeline. On top of that giant question mark settling snug between us, there’s the problem of You—and quite possibly everyone else too—thinking that Arata and I are an item.

“But for real, Aoi, he’s looking much better after meeting you,” You added, remaining unfazed even as Arata pushed him away. “He was always so moody and grumpy, always sleeping in his room and snacking so much in there that I thought I’d smelled a carcass. Do you know how much food must be in there for it to smell like fresh meat and blood?”

I shook my head no, but I can sort of guess how much, which is not a lot; it’s just massive in size. “I’ve made sure he cleans his room once every week, but I don’t know if it changed anything,” I said, only half jokingly.

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” Arata groaned, but You isn’t listening.

“Maybe that’s why you two take so long in the house. It changed everything, Aoi. You’re his life savior.”

I rolled my eyes, but I’m smiling. You doesn’t know half the things going on between Arata and I, so listening to him hit all the points blindly has become a sort of entertainment.

“By the way, what’s up with you two and the strawberry cologne?” he continued, slightly frowning. “Kensuke’s been telling me about how sometimes you just whip it out in class and spray it like it’s nobody’s business.”

“That’s exactly what it is—nobody’s business, especially not yours.” Arata grabbed my wrist, tugging me to his side as he told You sarcastically, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a date to fulfill.”

There’s a reason why Arata carries around a bottle of cologne for me, which is that he’s not the only bloodsucker around. Though the ability to read minds is unique to him, others like him would possess their own abilities and there’s no telling if they’re disciplined enough to not abuse them. Right off the bat, from the very beginning of the pact, Arata had told me that the uncontrollable violence in my mind marked me as an anomaly among humans, but it’s that same characteristic that makes me more tantalizingly fragrant. If my body odor could make a mind reader ignore the alleged unintelligible noise emitted from my brain, his other vampire friends would surely be on their way to hunt me down like hunters would game. 

Luckily—though how lucky is up for debate—his cologne masks my scent and I’m not attracting every bloodsucker within school grounds and beyond. From another point of view, this also means that I would be in massive danger if Arata is not around with his camouflaging cologne, which then translates to spending the rest of my time in this town with Arata literally by my side.

“Why are you… is that your blood?” I’d sputtered in disgust after the first feeding, when he gave me the cologne. He’d uncapped the bottle then spat into it, which perplexed me because he’d spat into cologne. Then, I saw the diffusion of red into clear pink, which alarmed me because he’d spat blood into cologne. “You want me to spray that all over my body?”

“Would you rather die?”

“No, but…” I took it reluctantly, holding it with the tips of my fingers like it’s a tissue onto which he’d spat blood rather than a bottle. “Is your blood being part of the cologne part of the whole ‘masking my scent’ thing? I thought smelling like strawberries should be enough to distract them.”

“Both of them are required for distraction, and also to stop me from falling to temptation. You smelled so strong the first few days you’re here, I’m surprised nobody came after you.”

I made a face at the comment. I may be safe from his mind reading ability, but not so his heightened scenting ability. “Okay, then, I guess I’ll keep this,” I started to pocket it but he snatched it away and slipped it into his pocket.

“I’m keeping it. I don’t want you using it to hide from me.”

“We sit next to each other in class.”

“With a noisy mind and an absent scent, you’re nonexistent to me, Aoi.”

You’s right about Arata looking—and acting—much better after meeting me, but that’s not until I’d cornered him that rainy day. The initial hostility he posed towards me was ice-cold; he never looked my way and had angled his body so he didn’t by accident, and I never tried to talk to him and instead focused on regulating my shallow breathing and racing heart. However, within the first few days of the pact, Arata turned from a sullen old man who thinks the world is conspiring against him into a child who’s just produced independent thought and wants to know everything.

I realized then that drinking my blood has an effect on his personality and attitude, because after the first feeding, he’s calibrated himself to act more like his age. Arata’s sneaking bites of dinner as I’m cooking them and he’s making guessing games out of other people’s thoughts in boring classes, amongst a few other things that regular teenagers do. He no longer brushes off my questions with curt answers and even began initiating more lighthearted conversations, anything that doesn’t pertain to his vampire identity and my unconventional mind. He even offers to help me with math, the one subject that I can never seem to grasp because it’s as convoluted as my brain and too closely arranged to feeding time.

It’s only one month later that he stopped changing the subject every time I broached on vampires, and the first thing he told me was of his all-animal diet.

“It’s the equivalent of a human surviving solely on potatoes and butter,” was how he’d explained it. We were having dinner after the second feeding, after I’d mentally and physically prepared myself the whole week before and after he’d adjusted himself from the first time he tasted human blood. “All the essential nutrition is present, but none of the meals are enjoyable.”

“You do crave human food, though, so it does fill you up, right?”

“I’m still human like you. I just have an extra need above water.”

“Okay, then, correct me if I’m wrong, but you can, in a way, survive without human blood, right? You’ll just never be fully satisfied.”

Arata nodded. “You’re not wrong. I’ve been vegetarian since I was born because my family didn’t want me to know the taste of human blood too early. They also taught me how to control my appetite so I wouldn’t lose it when I’m on my own.” He then rested his hands on the edge of the table, chewing thoughtfully with a creased forehead. “I don’t know if I should tell you this.”

I stared at him, downplaying the onset of anxiety. “Just say it,” I said nonchalantly, but my mind was running with possibilities.

“Well, long term deprivation isn’t going to cut it, because my kind can only survive without human blood for eighteen years. If you hadn’t talked to me that day, gotten angry at me a few weeks later, I might’ve gone feral and attacked you.”

Arata gradually becomes more open to having more conversations about his vampire identity the more he feeds, and I came to learn plenty to understand and forgive his ruthless behavior when we first met. It’s inexcusable to be mean to someone just because you aren’t as well-off as those around you, but Arata did spend over a decade being forbidden from a life necessity despite it being within reach. Though it does harm me to be his supply, I couldn’t simply turn away after I knew how humanly lonely he actually is.

“Yo, aren’t you the new kid from the city? I’m Hazuki You, you can just call me You. I’ve been Arata’s roommate since the first year. Nice to meet you!”

Third time’s a charm, people often say, and it’s on the third feeding that I saw sunshine manifested in a person, a six-feet-tall brunet with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Arata had mentioned having a roommate who’s quite a handful and I’d expected a rowdy jock who leaves his clothes strewn all over the floor, not a dapper dude who has a penguin keychain on his bag.

“I’m Satsuki Aoi. Nice to meet you too, You,” I returned, quickly returning to the math equations to not stare at the keychain.

“I’m surprised he agreed to teach you something, let alone math, but I’m more surprised that you’re close enough to him to be invited over,” You plopped down on the floor next to Arata, peering at the notes spread over the low table. “What did you do, Aoi? I almost didn’t recognize him when I walked in. Did you bribe him with strawberry milk?”

Arata tutted, plucking papers off You's hand and flicking them away. “Don’t disturb us, You. Unlike you, we’re actually trying to get some work done.”

You stared at Arata like the latter had just flat out rejected him, then turned to me with a smile of half amusement and half mild offense, visibly deflating. “He never helps me with anything, Aoi,” he said grimly.

I was almost tempted to tell You that Arata’s determination in assisting me was so we could quickly get on with ‘dinner’, but my intuition told me that he would think there’s more to my words. While Arata’s identity has remained a secret from You, Arata is on higher alert around him not just because he’s his roommate, but also because You appears to know more than he lets on.

“For some reasons, I haven’t been able to read his mind since April,” Arata told me after feeding, massaging blood down my numb arms. “It’s not totally blocked like yours, more like something is stopping me from reading it. One moment it’s a clear and straight line, then there’s a squiggly mess in the middle that I can’t untangle, and then it’s a line again.”

“Like a phone call with static in between?”

“About right. Strangely, I also get headaches when he’s nearby. I don’t know if it’s from automatically trying to read him or he’s just that infuriating. It feels like a virus, whatever’s doing that in You’s brain.”

I retracted my arms and held Arata by the shoulders, panic setting another round of violent thrashing in my chest. “Does You have a brain tumor? Is he sick?” I asked with genuine concern.

“I read minds, not detect cancerous cells. Besides, I doubt he has anything anyway, since he’s able to be outside all the time.”

“He could be going to the hospital for regular checkups! Arata, aren’t you at least curious about where he goes and what he does every day?” I stopped, realizing what that also implied. “Do I have a brain tumor?”

“Don’t dig yourself a hole. Neither you nor You have brain tumors.” He sighed, taking my hands and rubbing over my palms. “If you do, I’d have known from the first taste, so don’t worry. Anyways, from what I could read before the mental static interference, I could tell he has an idea about my kind.”

The sunshine roommate doesn’t know half the things going on between his freaky roommate and the new kid in school, but he knows enough to be putting a mind reader on his toes. The other thing that’s been convoluting my mind and contributing to the extra noise today is the growing fear that on one of these Fridays, You would walk in and we’d be too late to recollect ourselves for confrontation, and then Arata’s identity and our secret pact becomes public knowledge. Not that You would go around revealing to everyone about what he’s seen, but a secret is hard to keep the more people are involved. I couldn’t tell if that’s worse or if being assumed to be Arata’s boyfriend is.

“Hey, snap out of it,” Arata waved a hand over my face and his slight frown came to focus. “Are you sure you’re fine? I don’t want you to pass out.”

I nodded, returning to present time and remembering that we’re done with math. Arata had made it a requirement for me to lie down so I wouldn’t buckle under the shock of tremendous blood extraction, but doing this after weeks has yet to get me used to it. It’s not easy to pretend nothing is wrong or weird about a guy hovering over another guy on the sofa, and if You walked in on us right now, I’d rather he believe that Arata has a thirst for blood.

“Sorry, I’m just panicking as usual,” I bluffed only partly. “But, are you sure we can just do it here? What if You comes back?”

“He’s not going to come back until the moon comes out, seriously. You’ve been here a lot of times, Aoi.”

“What about that one time he came back?”

“It’s just that one time, don’t worry.”

Part of me wants to get this over and done with as we are, in spite of my reluctance, but my anxious thoughts always win. I pressed an arm against his chest and pushed, suggesting that we move to the bedroom. “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” I admitted sheepishly.

“Wow, you want to go that far this early, huh?” he teased with a smirk, but dropped the act when I grimaced. “Come on, I’ve basically got his Friday schedule burned in the back of my eyes. He won’t come back so soon.”

“Arata, I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You always have a bad feeling, no offense. Now, let’s get to it. I’m very thirsty and your anxiety is not helping.”

“Arata…!”

The first time feeding was done, I’d reacted aggressively that I’d grazed his crotch and nearly thrown him off the bed, where he would’ve knocked his head on the edge of the bedside table and probably suffered from internal bleeding. Had he not stabilized himself and pinned down my arms, I would’ve become an accidental murderer. That’s also another reason why I insist on moving to the bed, where there’s more space and less of an environmental hazard, but Arata is refusing vehemently that he’s begging to be thrown off the sofa.

He’s also unbuttoning the top of my shirt as he fought away my protesting hands, so I felt less guilty when I did throw him off. I felt more guilty, however, when I saw that we had company who may have seen more than he should’ve. Him and his friend, whom I don’t recognize from school.

“Oh, You. You’re back early,” Arata greeted casually from the floor, fixing his tousled hair. “Hello to you too, new person.”

The ‘new person’ shyly waved at us from behind You, who stood at the entrance staring at us in disbelief. All hopes of explaining the situation vanished because now there’s a third party involved. I don’t know how much You’s spoken of Arata and I to his friends, especially the one currently looking at us with saucer eyes, but it doesn’t matter whether he did or didn’t; the sight they’d witnessed suffices as an explanation. Our rumpled shirts with a few buttons popped, our dishevelled hair, the flush on Arata’s cheeks and the heaves of my chest—we looked like we’d been abruptly interrupted from a moment.

The usually talkative You seemed to be at a loss for words, his mouth hanging ajar while he searched for an appropriate response. I don’t blame him; all his jokes about us being together were only jokes, until now. “You two are actually…?” he gestured vaguely at us.

I started to shake my head, the denial on the tip of my tongue, but Arata climbed onto the sofa and beat me to it. “Yeah, we’re dating.”

“Arata!” I hissed, but he whipped towards me in warning, blocking them from my view.

“Just play along. They have no idea about  _ this _ . If we deny, they’ll just grow more suspicious,” he whispered, and for the first time, I caught a sense of immediacy in his eyes. The laidback Arata, who speaks what he thinks without filtering his words, is choosing to lie. He took my hand and, twining his fingers with mine, lifted it for You and his friend to see, as if to prove that he’s not lying. “We’re boyfriends.”

I’d expected You to react promptly in an I-knew-it way, but to my and Arata’s surprise, it’s his friend who does first. Beaming, he stepped out of You’s shadow and pressed his hands together, regarding us with shiny eyes and a much shinier smile. “That’s wonderful! I was afraid You and I had walked in on a fight, but I’m glad you’re not arguing with each other. Right, You?”

“Yeah… I guess,” You stammered, his voice faltering under the gaze of his friend’s.

“So, what are you two, then?” Arata asked as he continued to hold my hand on his lap. “You’s never brought anyone back here, but you must be important enough that he’s willing to barge in without texting first.”

You started to speak, regaining his momentum, but his friend beat him to it. “Ah! I’m sorry for not introducing myself first. I’m Nagatsuki Yoru, You’s childhood friend. I don’t think he’s talked about me before, but he’s been meaning to introduce me,” he said, his smile unwavering and earnest. Then, as if to upstage my and Arata’s simple hand holding, he held onto You’s arm and rested his cheek on his shoulder. “We’re also boyfriends, You and I.”

“Wait, Yoru?!”

“It’s okay, You! I was afraid your friends wouldn’t take the news too well, but it’s a lucky coincidence that they’re also like us.” Turning to Arata and I, Yoru exclaimed excitedly, “We could go on double dates now!”

Arata squeezed my hand in lieu of an alarmed look—this had taken quite a turn and escalation. “That’s great,” he merely said, patting my hand as he nodded rhythmically to it. “Kind of cute how we got to this situation, don’t you think, Aoi?”

My cheeks were tight as I forced a smile, but thankfully, You’s too startled by the announcement and Yoru wasn’t familiar enough with me to hear the strain in my voice. “Very cute,” I nodded too, feeling my palm grow clammy. I tried to wriggle it free, but Arata held on tighter, a vice grip. “I’m sorry you had to see that, You, Yoru.”

“No, don’t be! We’re sorry that we didn’t contact either of you first, since you’re always in the house on Fridays.” Yoru lifted his head to You, lower lip jutting out and eyes reminiscent of a puppy. “You’re always so reckless, You. We’ve gone and made them feel awkward around us now.”

You is staring at Yoru in silence while Arata and I watched in anticipation, until he broke out of his daze with a strangled chuckle. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, his gaze darting about and his mouth tight. “We’ll leave you two alone to do… whatever. We’ll be in my room, so don’t mind us.”

“Of course not,” Arata responded good-naturedly.

Our hands stayed together long after You and Yoru retreated to You’s room, and we let a full minute go by after the door clicked shut before Arata pulled me up and to his room. It’s only when the door behind us closed that he let go of my hand and I wiped the sweat away. “What was that for?!” I demanded quietly, my neck and ears smouldering with anger and embarrassment. “You can’t just make things up so suddenly!”

Arata’s hardened countenance is evident despite the darkness, and seeing it melted my fury to worry. “Listen to me, Aoi. I know it’s too sudden and strange, but we’ll have to keep acting as boyfriends.” When I didn’t answer, he continued in a lower voice, “It’s just a wild guess, but he may be the reason why I haven’t been able to read You’s mind since April.”

My eyes widened and I dropped my voice to a whisper, matching his volume. “You mean Yoru is also like you?”

“No, not quite. I need to get back to my dad about this to be sure, but You having begun to smell really stinky might also have some correlation to him. It’s just too bad that I can’t read his mind at all—him and You.”

“Okay… but what does that have to do with you lying to them about us being boyfriends?”

“Think about it, Aoi. If he turns out to be what I think he is, then they’d be in as big of a trouble as we are. I was able to read You’s mind a little in the beginning and they’re not boyfriends; it’s a coverup. Until they figure out that we’re the same as them, they’ll keep our ‘secret’ like we keep theirs.” Arata stopped, turning to look elsewhere as he muttered to himself. “He has to be it. That would explain how You seems to know things.”

I nodded, although the idea of fake dating nauseated me. I was already struggling to pin down what Arata thinks of our relationship and now we have an additional role to fulfill in front of his roommate and his fake boyfriend, and possibly the rest of the school. My thoughts ran wild as my heart hammered away, envisioning the coming week and thinking of how to go about the rest of high school.

“On the bright side, it should keep the rest of the school out of our business,” Arata added a second later. “Nobody would think we’re in a transactional relationship.”

I nodded some more, trying not to let my thoughts run too far lest Arata decided he’s too thirsty to sate my curiosity. “What is Yoru, then?” I asked as both a question and a distraction. “Him stopping you from reading You’s thoughts could be his ability, but him making You smell bad… is that also another ability?”

“No. Like I told you, he’s not quite like me. It’s not unusual, but I can’t read his mind at all. Your mind is still accessible when you’re focused, but his is protected behind an iron wall. An indomitable wall. This is just a wild guess, but based on those characteristics, there’s a high chance that he’s a wolf.”

I blinked at him, bewildered. That’s not what I was thinking of. “A wolf?” I echoed.

“Not a literal wolf, but a shape-shifting human-wolf hybrid. They have very unpleasant odors and the worst temper. The reason why his mind is completely blocked is because collectively, the minds of wolves in a pack form a single network, so outsiders can’t simply gain access to their thoughts.”

“Yoru doesn’t look like he has a temper,” I observed, recalling what little I could process of him from our short encounter. “You’s really never spoken about him before?”

Arata shook his head, crossing his arms. “This is the first time I’ve ever heard of a Nagatsuki Yoru, which is why I find it strange why You’s suddenly bringing him over…” He trailed off, his twisted expression smoothing out to one of revelation as his arms fell slack to his sides. “He’s a wolf; Nagatsuki Yoru is a wolf.”

“Why the sudden conviction?”

“Zero mentions of Yoru, the stinky smell on You and his corrupted mind since April, and now their sudden boyfriend label…” The last light of the day shone in Arata’s eyes as he clasped my shoulders tightly, a mad scientist discovering a new species. “He’s imprinted on You.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole story only happened because I thought nothing was neater than the concept of Arata being a casual vampire. Also, the image of You and Yoru walking in on Arata on top of Aoi had stuck to me insistently for days on end and I was so amused by the idea of them both fake dating for different reasons that prove to be useless at the end.


	2. Call of the Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seventeen-year-old Hazuki You grew up thinking his friend from the age of eleven has an incurable disease that prevents him from engaging with the world. He lived his days in fear they’ll be his friend’s last ones, until the truth was revealed to him that it’s not a disease—it’s a difference in genetic algorithm.
> 
> Now that You is put in charge of helping his friend live a more human life, he learns that there are more life-endangering secrets that could make the rest of their days the last ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by Jack London’s “The Call of the Wild”, which I’ve yet to read but I’ve seen the movie. Canines hold a special spot in my heart.

* * *

There are many reasons why I’ve never mentioned Nagatsuki Yoru to anyone, not even to my roommate, whom I periodically tell that I’m always around if he wants to talk about everything and nothing. There are so many that it would require me a list to get through them all, but one obvious reason is that Yoru hasn’t been himself lately.

“I can’t control my own actions and thoughts! I didn’t mean to say that we’re boyfriends!” he shrieked quietly as soon as I closed the door behind us.

I grabbed Yoru by his shoulders and shook him so he could physically feel what I was feeling inside. “What do you mean you ‘can’t control’? They’re your own actions and thoughts, Yoru! Are you gonna tell me you can’t control where you look too?”

His eyes bulged like those of a deer in headlights. “That might be next.”

I sighed. “Yoru, I brought you here so I could formally introduce you to my roommate as my friend, but you’ve turned us gay! And on top of that, we ended up seeing...” I shook my head to forget what I’d seen, but the more I tried to make the image leave, the clearer it became. “Gosh, you’re doing just fine since April, so why’re you panicking now?”

The wavering terror in Yoru’s eyes froze when he glowered. “Is it my fault now?”

Instantly, I fell two steps back and turned away, deciding that maybe having the last word is not worth it. “No, not at all,” I answered quickly.

Another reason why I never brought up the topic of Yoru to anyone is that he has a very short fuse. The smallest things would tick him off and, like a flipped switch, he’s derailing from rational discourse because I was a little sarcastic. I guess that’s what I get for not knowing when to stop, but that’s no valid excuse to get attacked.

The three-clawed gash wound on my left upper arm started to itch and I grabbed hard at it, suppressing the urge to scratch over the three-month long scab. It would leave a dark bruise on my skin for several months—three, if I’m lucky. Wolf claws are apparently as hot as the rim of a pan on high heat, at least those belonging to Yoru’s kind.

I turned back to him, and without preamble, he’s reverted back to the jittery Yoru whom I’ve always known, a bundle of nerves neatly wrapped into a sparrow-shouldered frame and soft-spoken nature. He’s so small that I keep having thoughts of lifting him in my arms and wrapping him in a cocoon of thick and warm comforters, where he would be safe and not crumble to pieces when I tell him that older dogs often have to be put down. He’s so tiny and weak-looking, it’s like talking patiently to a traumatized rescue puppy. When you’ve practically grown up with Yoru and known him as all of that, it’s hard to believe that he’s also the same person who nearly threw me off his balcony and down the treacherous slope beyond because I’d teased about eating the last slice of pizza.

I sighed again, feeling sorry for him even though I was still mad. “Let’s be optimistic, then,” I suggested calmly. “Since we have to be together more often, it makes sense that we’d suddenly declare ourselves as… boyfriends. They wouldn’t suspect anything because they’re also supposed to be in hiding. I just never thought I was right about them.”

“Sure you are. I bet they didn’t feel pressured at all from your jokes.” Yoru has sat on my bed so he didn’t see the scowl on my face, which was a good thing because he would’ve put it to shame with his own. “I won’t be able to enter school, unfortunately. I’d be way behind and it would take me forever to adapt to a human community.”

The biggest reason why Yoru’s existence remained a secret would have to be the fact that he is a wolf. He’s not physically a wolf, and just recently this year, he’s wholly human. I’m a hypocrite for thinking that other people wouldn’t be able to understand, but I really don’t think they would if I told them my childhood best friend is a human-wolf being—that is, if I could even tell them.

I knew Yoru as a kid who couldn’t leave his house, so I would always have to go to his place if I wanted to see him. He never went to school either, his education limited to his father’s guidance and a library full of thick encyclopedias and dictionaries. His mother is the backbone of the family, often working late nights in the corporate sector dealing with foreign affairs, which I later learned was only a front for a wolf community. The entire Nagatsuki family comprises only the three of them, and despite that number, they make a very complete unit, perfectly self-sufficient and isolated from the town’s society.

Yoru’s a kid like me; we’re the same age, yet he lives a totally different lifestyle that I couldn’t fathom. Neither he nor his parents would indulge in my curiosity at first, evading my questions skillfully because it’s natural that kids like me are prone to asking random questions. I wasn’t satisfied with being left in the dark, however, especially since they’d already treated me as part of the family, so I’d concluded on my own that the Nagatsukis were aristocrats who’d broken off from their extensive bloodline in the city to hide in a quiet town. Why, you may ask, and I would say it’s because their only son was afflicted with a terminal illness that prevents him from living past the age of twelve, which would undoubtedly get them kicked out of the family tree as he’s unable to produce an heir.

“You’re overestimating them, You. They’re just a regular family of three,” Tooru had said to me when I told him of my assumptions. It was a hot summer day, a few days before my thirteenth birthday. I was sitting on the deck for the light breeze, thinking long and hard about Yoru’s living conditions. I was so immersed that I’d unconsciously started to squint, until Tooru found me and asked if I was losing my vision from the heat. “If you’re so curious about them, why don’t you just ask?”

“That’s what I’ve been doing and they keep writing me off as a nosy child!” I’d snapped in my bratty twelve-year-old voice, not yet struck by puberty. “You don’t know how frustrated I am at Yoru right now. I can understand his parents not wanting to tell me anything, but Yoru has no reason to avoid me. Friends aren’t supposed to hide things from each other.”

“Everyone has things to hide, You. I’m sure you don’t want people to know you’ve been using the Miss Sunshine shampoo because it smells nice.” He patted my head, an old habit which both him and Sou have a hard time erasing, and quickly drew his hand back before I could swat it away. “I’m sure he has his reasons for not telling you things, and you can’t force him to say them. That’s not how trust works, You.”

“Then, what do I do? What if Yoru turns out to actually be sick?”

“Then you make sure he knows that you care about him. Make sure he knows that you are there for him even if you know nothing. Don’t let your days left with him become a potential regret in the future.”

I didn’t outright tell Yoru that I cared about him, so it’d saved me a lot of trouble and embarrassment when he got the point of my stiff back-patting and incessant need to make sure he’s okay. I stopped asking questions too, but he might’ve sensed from my being constantly distracted that I was suppressing myself and eventually brought it up himself, though not without repercussions. The next time I came over after he’d revealed the truth, his mother’s usually poised and warm voice was laced with menace.

“You now carry a big obligation for us, You,” she said as I entered the house. “If not for how fond Yoru is of you, we would’ve had no choice but to kill you for knowing about us.”

I couldn’t say anything, physically gripped by fear. I could only incline my head out of respect, as well as to avoid looking at her in the eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’ll still let you come around,” she continued, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. “As much you keep Yoru happy, you’re also a pleasant addition to this household. You’re like our second son, You.”

Since then, Yoru and I make a tight pair considering we spend almost every day together, and so almost everything is shared between us. His parents remained the same as before, but they’ve stopped us from going too far away from the house, a reverse of the concept where the older one gets, the further the distance they get to go alone. It’s another wolf thing begging to be questioned, but I’d learned my lesson and didn’t pry until the wolves themselves deemed it appropriate to reveal. Meanwhile, I did my best as Yoru’s only friend and educated him on teenage life and puberty and girls, showing him movies I liked and buying him clothes he might wear when he could go out.

“Humans are too unique, anyway,” present Yoru added, pulling me out of the past as he tugged at the jacket I’d recently bought for him. “I wouldn’t fit in with my weird human impression. I’m lucky that you’re even choosing to stay friends with me.”

Yoru is biologically a wolf, but his heart and mind are fundamentally human. The rest of my anger evaporated and I joined him on the bed. “You’re not lucky, you’re normal,” I told him reassuringly, bumping his shoulder. “You’re human like me, just with a bit more spice.”

“Are you accusing me of being annoying?”

“No! You’re… you’re great. You just do unique things when you’re unhappy. That’s your unique human part.”

Yoru stared at me skeptically, but nodded. “Okay, I’ll trust you. It still won’t change the fact that I’m a wolf now.”

“Part wolf. You’re still human.”

“Even when I have wolf ears?”

“Even when you— I’m sorry, what?”

I’ve seen Yoru when he’s furious and it’s not a pleasant sight. He doesn’t morph into a wolf, per se, but rather, he resembles a wolf. His irises shatter and crystallize into fiery flecks, his incisors stretch as he bares his teeth, and his back bends until he’s hunched over like a provoked apex predator. What’s most prominent are his fingernails, blackened and elongated, sharper than a set of new kitchen knives. That’s as wolf-like as Yoru had gotten since April, until now.

Now, though, he looked like a poorly dressed Wolverine. His hair didn’t shoot up into two parts and taper at the ends; there are actual wolf ears on his head, the fake clip-on kind you’d find in a cheap Halloween store. But, they’re the same color as his hair, a dark shiny coat of fur blending perfectly into human hair, which I doubt any high-tech synthetic fiber could replicate.

“Oh… that’s…” I couldn’t find the words because it’d caught me off-guard, but also because they’re quite tempting to be touched. “You can activate random wolf parts by command too?”

Yoru shook his head. “I think it’s automatic, which would be bad if I were to go to school,” he said with a smile, his wolf ears flicking. “If I’m not actively trying to scratch people, I’d be known as the kid who wears beanies all year round. That’s too unique of a human to exist.”

“Other emotions activate other wolf parts?”

“I don’t like the way you worded that. You make it sound like I don’t have other emotions besides anger as a wolf.”

I averted my gaze guiltily, rubbing my left arm unconsciously. “That’s all I’ve seen of you, so far,” I mumbled without thought, immediately jumping off the bed. I was expecting Yoru to be furious, but he only glared. I sat back down, flustered for assuming the worst. “Sorry, it’s just really hard for me to get used to this. You’re like a totally different person now.”

“Tell me about it,” Yoru deflated, sighing. “That’s what I meant about not being able to control my actions and thoughts. It’s not just the wolf parts—when I’m overwhelmed, my brain goes into an overdrive and makes me agree with the first thing I’m faced with. If Arata had said that he and Aoi were brothers, I would’ve said we’re brothers too.”

“That would’ve made a better relationship than boyfriends.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, You. Just be glad that no wolf part popped up while I was panicking.” He then buried his face in his hands, a classic distressed Yoru pose which I’ve learned not to question much about. “I don’t even want to know which part will appear when I panic.”

I watched him in the quiet of my room, the awkward tension from walking in on my roommate and his boyfriend dissolving into exhausted anxiety from my and Yoru’s predicament. Two years into befriending pre-wolf Yoru had me believing that he wasn’t going to live long, but four years into befriending human-wolf Yoru didn’t prepare me for the moment when he awakened to his wolf side, when he’d collapsed without warning while we were out viewing cherry blossoms at the end of April. His parents only allowed us to go because there were cherry blossom trees at the foot of the hill, the furthest we’d gone beyond their forest backyard. In retrospect, they must’ve known that the wolf in Yoru would awaken any time soon and they trusted me enough to let me supervise him on my own.

That day had been the day of a full moon, precisely eighteen years since he was conceived on a cloudless moonlit sky; the day he is to turn into a full-fledged human-wolf. The pink flowers had bloomed magnificently, a canopy of pink above our heads, and we were walking down the unpaved path when I heard a loud thump behind me, too heavy for a couple of flowers to make. There was no struggling on his part, which I was thankful for because I never listened whenever the Red Cross volunteers showed up for their annual demonstrations, but he’d fallen so suddenly, crumpling to the ground without warning that I feared he’d hit his head hard and suffered from an internal injury. For what felt like an eternity, I was faced with the dilemma of carrying Yoru back home or to the nearest medic.

The choice I picked was a no-brainer. The nearest medic was too far to reach on foot and I didn’t want to invoke his mother’s hidden wrath by accident, so I braved the uphill walk to his house with his slackened body draped over my back. She didn’t appear to be shocked that her son had turned up unconscious, wordlessly leading me to his room, where I put him on his bed and she tucked him in. I was flummoxed by her indifference, but I knew better than to demand for answers, choosing to stay silent even though I wanted to shout at her.

“Did you look into his eyes any time before he completely passed out?” was the first thing she asked after ushering me into the kitchen and pouring us each a cup of tea. “I know you’re worried about Yoru, but it’s nothing serious. Just answer me.”

“... I did.”

Besides a loud exhale, she’d offered nothing more as explanation before sending me to a room and telling me to wait. It was beyond frustrating to be left hanging, what more locked up in a guest room for hours. By the time she got back, I was not only seething in anger but also wearing my socks thin from pacing nervously. I didn’t realize how much my feet ached until I was sitting in the kitchen again, this time with Yoru’s father.

“I’m sure you must be very worried, and that your family is wondering where you are,” he started to say, but I shook my head and told them that both Sou and Tooru couldn’t care less of where I was and what I was doing, too busy running the temple and around respectively. “Well, that’s reassuring to know. We had to keep you here because someone who’s not supposed to see you was rushing over. He’s not supposed to know you’re here, that you’re a human friend.”

“Is he also a wolf?”

“No, he’s a human, but he’s not as lenient as we are. He would have killed you the moment he saw you, for it’s unforgivable that the existence of wolves is known to average humans.” He chuckled when he saw me wince, adding, “You have no need to fear, You. No one can harm you as long as we’re around. Besides, you have protection in the form of Yoru.”

I blinked dumbly at them, hesitant about asking for more elaboration. “What do you mean…?”

“Imprinting is a sacred wolf custom,” Yoru’s mother picked up promptly, more solemn than her husband. “It’s part of a cub’s transition to adulthood, the rite of passage that will determine their survivability in the human realm. The first human whom they see upon awakening their wolf side will inevitably become their master in life. Unlike a mate who is chosen and desired, you are his companion by chance. You’ll become his best closest friend until he reaches maturity.” When I only stared with my mouth ajar, she included quickly, “In other words, Yoru having imprinted on you means no other wolves or humans can kill you without being killed by him.”

Yoru’s father nodded with a smile too nonchalant for the topic. “Treat this like you’ve gotten a pet dog. For your assistance in his adjustment to a human life, he’ll remain loyal to you and protect you day and night. There’s no pressure regarding expertise or knowledge on your part; just being yourself suffices.”

His mother frowned. “Are you calling my son a dog?”

“It’s only an anecdote, darling, and he’s my son too. So? What do you think, You?”

I looked at them alternatively, their baton passing of explanation sinking in and crushing my ability to make sense of everything. “I can’t reject this, can I?”

“It’s the law of the wolves, a wolf thing,” Yoru’s father shrugged. “You could try to leave, but his instincts will always lead him back to you.”

While I could forgive Yoru for not letting me—his only friend since young—in on his wolf lineage and for nearly ending me at every harmless jab I make, I couldn’t do the same for his imprinting on me. The day of his wolf awakening had coincided with the day of his imprinting, and it’s the reason why I have to visit him every day for at least an hour so he wouldn’t go feral and run after me like a dog after a squirrel. He may be physically a seventeen-year-old boy, but he’s internally a three-months-old wolf cub, which explains all the unnecessary and excessive tantrums.

“No point fretting over it because we’ve basically solved the problem. Now that we’re boyfriends, no one will suspect us of being in any funny business,” present me said to Yoru, standing up and throwing my bag on the study desk. There’s a strange temptation in me to pat down his disheveled hair sans the wolf ears, but I turned away and crossed my arms, leaning against the desk.

“You…”

“I’m not mad, I’m just trying to come to terms with this. When do you reach maturity again?”

“In two years’ time.”

“But I’ll still have a bond with you even after that?”

“Yes.”

I nodded to myself, mentally laying out my entire life with a new arrangement including Yoru. “If you’re an actual puppy dog, this would’ve been a little easier to deal with.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m a full-grown human.”

“And also a baby wolf,” I turned to him with a lifted brow, steeling myself against his scowl. “I hope two years will be enough for you to get used to the human community, because I won’t be holding your hand outside these walls.”

He rose with a lifted hand aimed at me and I flinched reflexively, expecting nothing softer than a smack, but he’d only shoved me lightly. “I’m a human too, like you said. I can be independent.”

I nodded mockingly to appease his ego, and he shoved me again, grinning. I was grinning too, because although he’d stuck me in a strange position, it’s tolerable because it’s Yoru. Nagatsuki Yoru, my best friend since age eleven, a living irony who drives me crazy with his antics as much as they make me laugh.

My baseless deductions about the Nagatsukis being aristocrats were not far off the mark, as they’re members of a royal wolf community. The alpha male had died, leaving Yoru’s mother as the eldest of the pack, which then makes Yoru, the first male child and ultimately next in line as the next alpha. Unfortunately, wolves also adhere to a social hierarchy, so Yoru’s father being a common wolf had lowered his eligibility to take on the alpha position and consequently garnered disfavor from the other wolves. Why the three of them chose to live in isolation was because of that, as well as Yoru’s compromised health from having inherited his parents’ clashing genetic information.

“Contrary to wolf ecology, I have a terrible sense of smell,” two-days-old wolf Yoru had said as he nursed the three-clawed wound he’d just inflicted. As quickly as he’d turned violent, he’d snapped out of his rage and cleaned my wounds. Over the bright red of my skin, the thick green paste seemed to sizzle, and I watched in quiet awe as he deftly ripped strips of cloth to wrap around it. “I’m also not physically gifted like my cousins. I’ve been trying to improve myself by going to the forest as much as I could, climbing trees and swimming in the lakes, but my limbs are never coordinated and I always react to things too late. I wouldn’t last a minute in the wild if I were alone.”

I’d thought the same too, having watched him hurt himself every few hours in the past many years because of careless conduct, but kept it to myself so he wouldn’t scratch me a new wound. For a purebred who has the blood of royalty flowing in him, Yoru is extremely clumsy and lacking grace. The wolf awakening may have given him more edge in spiking his emotions and reactions, but he still burns himself while cooking in the kitchen and still misses his steps whilst trekking up the hills. He’s also still the same gentle and caring soul who would nurture wounded squirrels and spend hours making homemade herbal concoctions, for both healing and culinary purposes.

I flinched when he’d tied the knot tightly around my arm, the supposedly soothing ointment stinging. Yoru was too focused on attending to the wound to notice my discomfort, fixing the sloppy wraps of the cloth with a concentrated frown.

“Are wolves meant to live out of human society? It’s not just the secluded location of your house, but even your family seems to not mingle with humans at all,” I asked to take my mind off the flaring burn on my arm. “You know what? You don’t have to answer me if it’s top secret.”

Yoru is a man of little words, but the rare times he speaks paragraphs proves that he’s not ignorant to the world outside the walls that hold him in. “The wolves believe that the humans are not at the top of the food chain, that they’re the superior ones with their abilities to shape-shift. However, it’s that very ability coupled with an uncontrollable violent streak that made it clear they’re never meant to live with humans. Human organizations were built to curb the wolf population by driving them into the woods, which limited their contact with humans to the occasional aboriginals and country folks. But that’s over a hundred years ago. Today, we have an intermediate council to mediate interspecies matters, though we almost never run into any problems with humans since we actively avoid them.”

He eventually finished fiddling with the cloth, giving it a few light pats like it’s a proudly done handicraft, then gave me a small, almost shy smile. “We’re never meant to meet at all, You,” he added. “If you hadn’t run away from your house that day, if you hadn’t gone down that road, I don’t think I’d have made any friends in my life, human or not.”

I’d smiled at the memory, thinking of how far we’ve come. “I wouldn’t survive anywhere at all if you aren’t with me, Yoru,” I’d told him genuinely, the pain on my left arm numbing. “Anyone can learn how to climb trees and swim in a few days, but a healer’s hand like this is hard to come by. Be proud of yourself.”

Yoru smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hands fell to his lap and his shoulders slumped, and I feared I’d said the wrong thing. “There’s one more thing I didn’t tell you,” he began hesitantly, fingers fidgeting. “To tell you the truth, I knew when my imprinting would happen. My parents had warned me against it, but I was stubborn.” He took a breath, while I held mine. “I wanted it to be you. I wanted to mark you as my official life companion. Imprinting is supposed to only be among wolves and it should’ve been my mate, but I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone I don’t know.”

As his mother had explained, a mate is chosen and desired, but since Yoru’s been locked up his entire life with nobody new to meet, his mate would be chosen for him and his imprinting would make him desire her. In human terms, Yoru would’ve become a victim of arranged marriage, for which he’d admitted to have only lived to fulfil. That was, until he met me and learned of the infinite freedom with which humans are gifted.

Of course, as heartwarming and touching as it seems, it didn’t alleviate the damage we’d caused. The wolf side of the council is now hot on our heels as Yoru’s awakened and in need of a mate, which not even Yoru’s mother being the royal alpha could prevent. As a result, a rotational lineup of council members have been dropping by the Nagatsuki house every other day, urging for Yoru to register his awakening as well as preaching the importance of finding a suitable mate as soon as possible. The both of us have been calculating days to avoid them, because unlike Yoru, they could immediately sniff out my human scent and his imprint on me from great distances. Today was like any other week, but they’d taken the back alley path I’d used to sneak into the house instead of the one we’d memorized as their usual. After sending off a warning message to his father, Yoru had grabbed my hand and we bolted parallel to the forest to get to town, to get our scents mixed up with the crowd’s in case they’re after us. We didn’t stop until I realized we’re at my place, and by then I was the one holding his hand.

“Well, they’re stepping up,” I said after we’ve collected ourselves enough from the adrenaline and humiliation. “Besides showing up consecutively and at odd times of the night, they’ve also secured a different entry. We’re cornered now. We can’t keep relying on your dad to relay their arrivals to us; even he’s gonna become mentally drained.”

Yoru said nothing, pouting, then looked at me in a snap. I recognized that face and immediately knew what’s on his mind without him having to spell it out. It’s the classic eureka Yoru stare, where his brows are raised and he tilts his head to the side as he regards me with a look.

“No, we’re not hiding here. Not every day,” I shook my head. “It’s going to be too suspicious after you’ve been nonexistent.”

“But Aoi only comes over on Fridays! We could just have that double date on that day.”

“It doesn’t matter what day Aoi comes—you’ll be here every day.”

“Isn’t that what boyfriends do?”

I stared at him, shocked. “Since when do you know boyfriends do what?”

Yoru stared back at me, equally shocked. “Since you taught me that couples go to each other’s place to spend time together. Not that we’re like that, but what we’re doing is not too different. Isn’t that what Arata and Aoi are doing?”

“Yes, but… they don’t do it every day. Besides, they’ll really think we’re dating if you’re always here. It’s like you’ve moved in or something.”

And immediately, I regretted saying those words because Yoru’s eyes are shining and he’d latched onto my arm with the excitement and spirits of a dog at the mention of ‘a walk’. “That’s it! That’s what we can do instead, since the council’s made my house a red zone for you. We have to convince Arata and Aoi anyway, now that they already know who I am. It would also help explain why you’re constantly outside, so now they have no reason to wonder where you go. I’m sure Arata has asked that question many times.”

Arata’s never asked, but I could tell from the occasional times when we’re simultaneously in the apartment that the question had been circling his head. Much like he keeps to himself, Arata doesn’t try to get to know me, which was my defense for being surprised when I learned he’s befriended—or rather, fallen for—Aoi. From how much I got to know about Aoi through our brief conversations, he’s not the type to bottle his thoughts and emotions, so perhaps he’s managed to coax Arata to come out of his shell and made him a little more curious about other things.

I thought for a second. Yoru does have a point, because although I hate to be mistaken as anything but the truth, the boyfriends-living-together concept does provide an aegis protection. Not only from the council who are practically begging for a restraining order, but also from Arata and Aoi, who are still near strangers to me and complete strangers to Yoru.

“But you would have to leave your house and your parents, who need a lot more convincing than those two do,” I said slowly, counting up all the sacrifices Yoru would have to make. “And your temper—” I stopped, sensing the quirk of his brow, then paraphrased myself, “the way your emotions make your wolf parts pop up… it takes only me to make your claws appear and we’ve spent years together. I can’t do anything if whatever Arata says might piss you off. There’s also your ears, which is automatic, and a whole bunch of other parts that— Yoru?”

He’s holding my face in his hands like one would hold an expensive porcelain vase, and as my cheeks warmed from the heat of his palms, I could see an aquamarine shine in his wide eyes. “You, didn’t I tell you before? I’m willing to break more laws if it means that you’ll be safe.”

He’d uttered the words with so much care and affection that I hate to be the voice of logic and bearer of bad news, brushing his hands away to say, “I know, but if the truth reaches them, you’ll have to protect them too. That’s two people you can’t guarantee the safety of.”

Yoru sighed, lips pressed to a thin exasperated line. “You’re absolutely right. We  _ are  _ cornered.” He returned to sit on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees as he pressed his twined fingers against his lips in thoughtful anxiety. A minute went by without any exchange until he stood again, resolution hardened on his face. “I still stand by that decision. If we could keep this up until the council relaxes, I could keep myself under control in front of your friends. It’ll become part of my adjustment to humans, a much more valuable lesson than climbing trees and swimming in lakes.”

“Two years is a long time to buy. I don’t want you to push yourself beyond what you can take, Yoru.”

“It’s two years with you,” he corrected, approaching me with a smile. “I think my mom also mentioned adaptation occurring the fastest when I’m directly thrown into the new environment, which makes this all the more a suitable course of action. What could teach me about human life better than living with more humans?”

Nothing, really, because Yoru’s mother was right, but only to a certain extent. Yoru may be a seventeen-year-old boy on the outside, but he’s still a three-months-old wolf cub. With a bare minimum control over the synergy of his emotions and wolf parts, there’s no telling what else might trigger him. Though, it’s arguable that Yoru does learn better the hard way, and maybe with Aoi acting as a buffer for Arata, he wouldn’t be as quick to see red. It would also reduce the stress I face every day, thinking it’ll be the day I walk into a wolf’s den and never come out alive.

Yoru’s eyes are wide and shiny as he awaited my response. The semblance he bears with canines is eerie and I did my best to not be pushed by temptation, fearing that I would start petting him. “Okay, you can move in, but only after you get your parents’ permission and we tell those two,” I said with a yielding sigh, but the rest of my sentence is cut off abruptly as Yoru’s thrown his arms around me for a tight embrace. 

The last reason why I never speak of Yoru to anyone, especially to Arata, is because Yoru had gradually grown touchy. Yoru and I have always maintained a good platonic proximity, but all that crashed in the course of three months following his awakening. It could be another effect brought on by imprinting, the canine desire to be physically affectionate with humans. It would be the best comeback for Arata, to whom all my jokes regarding him and Aoi have become a bright box of red herrings.

“Don’t get all mushy on me,” I said to Yoru, trying to put distance between us, but to no avail. Yoru’s also gotten relatively stronger than before and my arms were stuck pressed on my sides. “Arata is the one living with me, not Aoi. He won’t let me live if we’re more lovey-dovey than they are after I’d teased him so much.”

“You’ll have to get used to this, You,” Yoru said, voice muffled on my shoulder where his cheek is mushed against. “As much as I’m training myself to adapt to humans, you have to adapt to fake dating too. Boyfriends like to give hugs to each other.”

“We’re not real boyfriends. Don’t get carried away.”

He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s thinking that a label won’t change our dynamics. Boyfriends or not, he’s still a touchy person and I’m still his only friend. And though it’s not ethical or morally right to deceive Arata and Aoi this way, people do say that the best place to hide a tree is in a forest. I just hope Yoru stays a tree and not shift into a wolf halfway.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, back at it again with the Middle Group and their wild friendship shenanigans. I intended to complete all four chapters by October but... well, let's just say I didn't plan my schedule very well. But, here it is, the second chapter! I can't put an exact approximate time for the next chapter, but it will appear. Whether it'll take me a month or five months, it will be uploaded. So thank you for reading, and an extra thank you for waiting. I'll see you when I do.
> 
> Yoru as a wolf is so cute!!!!! The thought of him being so angry that he grumpily scratches You is so funny and endearing that I had to make it happen. He’s also a wolf because it’s canon that he resembles his scary grandfather when he’s stubborn about something, and it’s also canon that You is scared of Yoru. Basically, this whole chapter is dedicated to Yoru scaring the crap out of You and I’m. Here. For. It.
> 
> Originally, I wanted to make all of Gravi vampires (mostly because they can then self-proclaim to be Vegetarian Vampires, which is coincidentally their pose lmao) and all of Procera werewolves (because aren’t they all cute and eager oversized puppy dogs?!?!), but I let a few days go by so this idea simmers wonderfully like a warm garden soup instead of bursting like a volcanic eruption, and this happened! I’m happy with this version because I like the Middle Group and I like the uhh patterns in their relationships. Long live childhood friendships, tbh.

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to subscribe to Eclipse Rain and kudos this baby. I put out new entries every blue moon.
> 
> ありがとう ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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